Barefoot
by wanderingsmith
Summary: S/W - This is a new low, Elizabeth
1. Barefoot

Summary: S/W, This is a new low

Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is said so let it be thought; you make the toys, I play with them.

AN: _it was **anuna81**! really! she said 'BARE FEET' to me!_

Elizabeth was standing next to the gate talking to the newly-arrived Major Lorne when the gate started dialing again.

"Unscheduled offworld activation!"

She moved away from the ramp, letting the major stand in front of her as they waited for the rest of the technician's information.

"It's Colonel Sheppard, Ma'am, coming in hot!"

"Drop the shield!" she stepped aside as she spoke to see the gate more clearly as the soldiers all cocked their weapons.

It only took a few seconds before John's team flew through the gate, landing rolling down the ramp.

"Shield up!!" John was yelling as he rolled, finally coming to a stop in front of Elizabeth's legs.

Elizabeth looked down in concern, "Are you alright, colonel?"

"Yeahhhh," John grumbled, staying on his back at her feet as he caught his breath, "We are never going back there again! Why do I even do this for a living again?"

Elizabeth's instinctive inspection for injuries on his body stopped in fascination as her eyes fell on his bare feet. "Err, John? Did you change the footwear regulation without telling me?"

He turned his eyes from his self-pitying look at the ceiling to glare at her rebelliously, lips stubbornly closed.

Elizabeth tore her eyes back to his with a blink at his silence, hearing Teyla start to speak before she could question him. "Before they turned upon us, we were trying to negotiate with the the natives and they..." she stopped to control the laugh that had started shaking her voice, "The natives believe men should remain barefoot and in the..." the gateroom gaped as the usually self-contained Athosian started laughing out loud, unable to complete her report.

Elizabeth looked at the other members' of John's team, getting around to noticing the complete lack of male footwear. Ronon was smirking with his usual twisted sense of humour and perfectly comfortable on bare feet, giving her a wink before going to help Teyla straighten from her bent-over holding-her-stomach guffaws. McKay, on the other hand, looked downright mutinous as he picked himself up and gingerly stepped away, glaring at everyone.

When she dropped her eyes back on her military 'commander', somehow her eyes skipped down from his slowly rising upper body.. right back to those bare feet.

"Elizabeth?" his familiar, slightly hesitant drawl forced her attention up. Meeting laughing eyes that rose above her as he finally got himself up, since she wasn't paying him any attention anyway.

Before he could say a word, she snapped herself out of the very strange daze and stepped back sharply. "You need to see the doctor, colonel, those scrapes look unpleasant. I'll expect your mission debrief in 2 hours." She nodded to him and spun away, trying to fill her mind with the treaty she was supposed to be writing. To push out the completely strange images flooding it.

Since when did pale, muddy, scratched size 10 feet with muddier pant hems draped on them make her forget she was in the middle of the gateroom? And why did a completely inappropriate urge to change the footwear regulations herself scamper through her thoughts??

She groaned as she reached the safety of her office. His feet, Elizabeth?? This is a new low.


	2. In the kitchen

_**...In the kitchen**_  
Summary: A late night conversation

AN: _Where are all these stories coming from??_

_1:30_

That was it! When she started looking at a clock more than every 5 minutes, she refused to stay in bed.

She was bleary-eyed with tiredness as she cinched her warm, fluffy, man-sized bathrobe around her waist. She wanted to sleep; her brain simply refused to cooperate. Every time she tried to relax, she started thinking of... Oh for the love of!

She grumbled under her breath, hurrying out of her quarters toward the mess hall. She'd done this often enough over the years to know that she might meet the odd scientist on the way, but that no one would care what you looked like at this time of night. An unvoiced agreement that all night-walkers were allowed to be fallible humans.

As she approached the kitchen, her head was so heavy she kept it bent down to rest it, eyes half-closed, merely watching for toe-stubbing obstacles. Just before she should have encountered the counters... she instead faced the very limbs that had been keeping her awake.

Cleaned of mud, the scratches glowed on the pale skin; clearly delimited tendons and solid muscle of ankle and leg exposed by...

Elizabeth jerked her head up as John(!) stepped up to her with a grin. How long had she... "If you keep staring at my feet that way Elizabeth Weir, you're going to give me a blown head."

It was her turn to grin, or try to. The yawn that she barely had the reflexes to cover rather took her usual zip out of it. Which left John completely unfazed and outright laughing at her.

Since she hardly had a defence to offer, she just sighed and started to move toward the fridge until he put his hands on her shoulders and gently reoriented her toward the nearest table and chairs. "I think it would be best if you sat down, doctor." Blinking scratchy eyes at the man taking care of her, she let herself be sat down on a chair meekly. "Now, what was it you were after? Dare I hope warm milk or sleepy-tea?"

"Milk."

"Uhu. Good girl." He smirked when that sparked her dormant energy enough to break out a glare as he turned away and swaggered back to the stove.

Well if he was going to make it that easy... She leaned back in the chair and watched her fill. His hair was such a mess he had to have tried to sleep before coming here and the loose shirt was literally ragged along the edges and looked incredibly soft. Worn BDUs that conformed to tight buttocks and muscled thighs, with rolled-up hems that exposed more of the feet she'd gotten fixated on.

As he went back to stirring the pot he'd already had on the burner, she got her tongue back. "Are you practising for your next trip to the matriarchs, colonel?"

He rolled his eyes, turning to shake a finger at her, "I am never going back there, boss. No way, jose. Send Cadman and Teyla. For that matter, Ronon looked like he was amused; he can go along as their bodyguard/slave."

"I don't see the problem colonel, being barefoot and in the kitchen doesn't seem to bother you..."

"Elizabethhhh!" John very occasionally wished he was better at resisting her teasing. But it was such an easy way to get her to smile at him. She enjoyed playing with him, and getting flustered on a regular basis was a price he was more than happy to pay to know he could give her that.

'Course, if he could manage to make her blush one day... he grinned as he poured the milk into mugs. And she'd handed him such nice ammo today.

He took the chair across from her, watching silently as she took a sip and then closing his eyes to enjoy the quiet of the night, hearing the quiet breathing of the woman sitting with him. These peaceful moments were just too rare. When she put her cup down, he opened his eyes, watching her drowse and debating whether to tease her or escort her to bed.

She caught him watching and smiled; not quite the teasing one, but still. He tried to keep his face steady as he sat back and gently stretched his leg so his foot landed on her lap.

She gaped at him in shock, not even twitching. "Well, you did keep looking," he shrugged, "Thought you might like to satisfy your curiosity." Still keeping his poker face, he sat back and pretended to close his eyes

Elizabeth had just been relaxing, feeling warm and drowsy, mind busy with at least more than feet. That old tingling warmth and the comforting strength she felt when she relaxed near John, scent and whole-body sight of her friend. This, she was used to. This, she could sleep with. Catching that affectionate, slightly seductive, look on his face, she smiled; her world as safe and good as it got.

She just had time to notice the change in him and start to analyze it when she felt the unfamiliar weight land in her lap. With her unfortunate fascination of the day she didn't need to guess what it was but...

She knew he was grinning inside, knew John that well at least. If she'd had a good comeback, she'd have used it, as it was... She grinned slowly; she knew John. And there was one way guarantied to throw him.

Taking a last, deliberately casual, sip of her drink, his foot rubbed into her stomach as she bent over the table. And his heel rested right between her thighs. She pretended not to notice the stiffening of his leg. Instead, she leaned back and wrapped her hands around his ankle, content with the way his jaw clenched, hands tightening around his mug. Since he managed to resist opening his eyes, she dropped hers to her lap.

Her hands massaged the ankle and heel, rough from too much time walking in army boots. Letting her eyes half-close and relaxing back as she moved her hands along the foot. "You really managed to get scratched up nicely didn't you? Carson look all this over?" she asked quietly, carefully smoothing the deeper breaks in the skin while trying to avoid tickling.

Teasing forgotten, John was enjoying the care. Ignoring the effect her touch was having on his body. His eyes honestly closed now as he replied just as quietly, "They're fine. Clean and cool. Don't worry."

Elizabeth nodded, accepting his words. Feeling for herself that there was no fever and the scabs were smooth. She smiled as she reached the toes, massaging each one and noting the few stiff hairs growing on them. It was strange to know such small intimate facts about a man she didn't live with. On the other hand, their relationship wasn't simple and already included little intimacies, albeit unspoken ones. Eyes did not 'speak'. They shared; but they did not 'speak'.

When she was done her impromptu massage, she smoothed her hands back to his ankle in one move. Considering he'd come in here to make himself hot milk, she was glad to see the complete relaxation on John's face. However, he wasn't about to get an excuse to call her the 'little woman'. Holding his ankle to control the jostling, she shifted until her own foot landed on his lap.

She kept her reaction to an almost-controlled blink when her heel landed on unmistakably aroused flesh. You 'had' been massaging him, Elizabeth. It was a normal reaction to relaxation.

None of which stopped the answering pulse within her. She could only hope it was reasonably under cover when his eyes flew open and his hands wrapped around her heel, lifting her off the evidence. "Fair is fair, colonel."

John knew damned well that she knew what she'd landed on... but it looked like she wasn't going to make an issue of it, so he just relaxed and followed his orders. Looking at what he was doing, he gently massaged the white, unblemished, Lady's foot. He couldn't help a small smirk when he heard her sigh contentedly. He went back and forth over the sole, memorizing another small part of her body he'd gotten to see.

And touch, mustn't forget touch. Small ticklish toes, carefully smoothed heel, soft soft skin. When he felt the urge to kiss a wriggling toe he had to grin, "I think I'm starting to understand the fascination, doctor."

The official designation was a reminder of the distance they needed to keep. This surreal moment out of time was just that. When he looked up, they shared a rueful look and looked away from each other as they pulled their respective feet back.

He got up, taking both their empty mugs to the sink and cleaning them silently. The fact that he'd just stood up in front of his boss while sporting a hard-on just wasn't a consideration at this point.

When he turned back to the table, she'd been watching him, half-drowsy and half-interested. Unfortunately, he was hardly in a position to say anything about interest, so he just grinned and walked to her, offering her a hand up. "Come on, Elizabeth, time for bed."

Slipping an arm around her waist when she stumbled, he frowned, "When was the last time you slept a full night?"

She shook her head without bothering to look up at him, or answer, instead accepting the supporting arm as they walked to her quarters.

"'Lizabeth," he muttered, mostly to himself. Wasting a minute wishing he was in a position to make sure she stayed in bed. His lips tightened in old annoyance at the idiots who ran the world they came from. This stupid way of doing things was neither healthy nor helpful. But as long as Elizabeth believed in it... he'd long accepted that his place was supporting her and that that, was that.

Reaching her door, Elizabeth stepped away from him, knowing from experience that after such a large dose of new sensations her mind would literally rock itself to sleep enjoying them, regardless of milk.

Opening her door, she turned to John, catching the weary expression he tried to shift away. When she didn't say anything right away he raised a brow in question, but she didn't know what to say. It wasn't just the night's tiredness she'd seen there for a second; the weight making his shoulders droop was years in the building. Was one that weighed her down too.

She looked around, taking in Atlantis, in all its familiar strangeness, and beyond the walls, the people who struggled every day to revive the Ancients' dreams.

"Elizabeth?" His hand touched her shoulder as he spoke, head tilting in worried question.

She watched him carefully as she asked, "Is it worth it?" And she caught the surprise in his eyes, confusion following closely. After a minute trying to read her eyes, one of his hands hesitatingly came up to comb slowly into the hair at her temple. "John?" she nudged softly when he didn't say anything.

His lips jerked in and out of a smile, "I don't know. I just know I follow you."

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch jerkily, not remotely sure about what she was doing. But so tired suddenly of standing alone when her door closed. Of watching John. And seeing him fight himself and settle for this half-life. "We could lose Atlantis. Lose our jobs."

John tensed, believing as his palm cupped her cheek that maybe, just maybe... "You'll always get a job, you're too good. And if I get booted from the military," he shrugged, "It's not like I got along with them anyway. Until you volunteered to take me on, they had me stuffed safely away on McMurdo."

He didn't say anything for a moment, taking his own look around, coming back to meet her now open eyes, "Atlantis... We've done our best. Given sweat and blood to taking care of it for more than 2 years. Are we really helping it by giving away our souls too?" He tried to smile, "Hey, maybe we'll catch a break for once and they'll just blink and say 'Whatever'..."

Her only response was an inelegant snort. It still made him grin though, because she was amused, and that was his job. When she grabbed his hand as she turned into her room, his grin widened as elation rose through him.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he swooped and picked her up, laughing when she squeaked and her arms flew around his neck. Stepping over the threshold and hearing the door close, he bent down and captured her open lips, stealing her nascent lecture.

His eyes closed as she turned her wild grip into soft stroking from his nape into his hair. Soft exploring of lips changed to committed enticement and challenge as their tongues engaged.

The give and take and outright arguing over dominance finally ended when she ran out of breath and pulled back. John smirked as he sucked in some much needed air himself, laying gentle kisses on her closed lids, mentally staking a claim. "Just so you know, boss, I'm gonna be coming in late tomorrow... this morning. And so's Elizabeth."

AN: _a couple of ladies absolutely insisted this end with a kiss.. so there you go. you know who you are ladies!! ;)_


End file.
